Please allow me to slip into your mind
With concepts that I have created with mine
As I undress your thoughts with my eyes
I know what you want because imagination never lies
The thought of you makes me numb
My mind thinks about our interactions
I remember being deep in you
Feeling a river flow between your legs
Enjoying every second of lust
Throwing myself at you wanting more
My imagination will never lie, nor die

I met a man.. that I believe..I have dreamt into existence.
He spoke life into my dreams, dried my tears, when I cried from my ever healing soul, planted lavender below my window sills, surfed the ups and downs of my complicated moods and patiently waits..

He's the constant, I never knew was real, the strength that keeps my back from bowing, the gentle...that soothes every doubt.

He's the description of what Love..is truly meant to be.

"Dreams" he said, "I want you to write about your dreams"
I watched his expression full face, talk with his usual infectious vibrancy...
candle flickering, between belly laughs, raw unscripted stories, uncensored truth and the feeling of complete freedom to be human, his pouring over the brim life experiences..dripped from his fingertips as he spoke with his hands.
I'm Lucky. I thought. As I sat there, sinking into his words and gentle loving soul.
Just to simply know him, to hear of his adventures, heartbreaks, falls and climb to the top of life's list of goals and successes.
So I meditated on this writing assignment...for weeks.
I've written of Love, Loss, Heartache and Regrets.
But Dreams...I've yet to fall into ink drenching grains of paper and be completely free of the ever ticking time...to do just that... Dream.

Fish swim in the sea, I've heard.
Ice forms in the winter time.
Clouds cover all of the earth,
and
every day is a blessing.

Opening eyes is the first battle.
If won, it's a victory indeed!
We only have
this one moment,
and
that is really
enough for anyone.

I touch the dirt,
the dirt refreshes me.
Realizing that it
is a
good world
most of the time.

Fingers snap as I
walk casually in the light.
Enjoying the calm
that comes
from
being.

If I stand on my head,
view my surroundings
with a different
awareness; I'll swallow
the air as it
circulates
around me.

Yes, there are problems.
Bad health and nasty thoughts.
Dank walls sweating
with the turmoil
they've contained.

But these are just
flashes of discontent.
Emblems of survival
that are
only as
strong as I make them.

Best to look for
things that make me glad.
Growing like a
piece of grass
surrounded
by a world
of colour.

Calm down restless man, calm down.
Nothing worried will ever change.
What is will be. What happens happens.
Restless flutters of fallen insecurities
must be silenced to be forgotten.
So forget everything.

Endless streams of consciousness
flows heavily with the neglect
of being free. Freedom only
comes when the thinking is
stopped. Don't think. Just be.

When I am not travelling through
the poetry, I toss sounds inside my head.
Metaphors drip from the unconscious
like ice cream melting in a bowl.
I know I am as strong as my
strength allows me to be.

These times of putting myself
into lines upon a page, these are
what defines me. So let the
jumping end. Sit down. Rest.
Put no foot upon the floor.

Bruised and analysed, stopped
in my tracks by what attacks.
Discontented thoughts be silent.
Be nothing. Be over.

He steps outside his house: does
not scream his defiance: therefore
not the portrait his long legs suggest.
Speaking mumbles to lawn ornaments
who see him only with painted eyes.
Ears forever closed: he does not
understand the silence. He prowls
in steps of measured distance:
waiting for the rain to tumble.

When it comes, it comes in trembles
of resistance. He understands he
must never get wet: must continue
to dry his towel under the dew of
morning. He paces the sidewalks
opening his ears to the fruit of
flapping leaves. In minutes he will
glow with the safety of ceasing to
exist: time transforming his created
distances. There are always static
murmurs which tingle his shallow skin.